


Blue's side of things

by all_the_ships_are_sailing



Category: Simonverse | Creekwood Series - Becky Albertalli
Genre: M/M, POV Bram Greenfeld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 7,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28300356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_the_ships_are_sailing/pseuds/all_the_ships_are_sailing
Summary: Some scenes (or well most applicable scenes) from Simon vs. the Homo-Sapiens Agenda (by the lovely Becky Albertelli), but from Bram's perspective. Yes, I know this has been done before. A lot of the chapters are super super super short, but here we are.
Relationships: Bram Greenfeld/Simon Spier
Kudos: 24





	1. Gender Bender Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wednesday after Halloween. Spirit Week. Mr. Wise's first period English class.

I’m always early to school, because the more time I spend in first period English is the more time I’m in the same room as Simon Spier. If I could spend all of my time in the same room as Simon Spier, I think I might explode, but in a good way; a very very good way. Wednesday is Gender Bender Day and as it the age-old Creekwood tradition I’ve been roped into wearing a cheerleading uniform. When I get to Mr. Wise’s room Garrett is already sitting in the middle of the disgusting old sofa. “Greenfeld!” he calls, patting the place on his left. “Saved you a seat, my dude.”

I sigh slightly, but I cross the room and flop down next to Garrett, squeezing my legs together to ensure no one gets more than they bargained for it they were to look at us. Nick Eisnier, Simon and their friend, Leah enter a few minutes later just as the warning bell’s ringing. “Eisnier!” Garrett calls and pats the spot on his other side. “Have a seat.” Garrett holds out his fist when Nick arrives and Nick bumps it.

“Greenfeld! Laughlin! What is up?” Nick says as he collapses onto the other end of the couch. He leans around Garrett and extends his fist to me; I bump it. Simon is watching us while he drops his books onto a desk next to Leah. I lean against the back of the couch and shuffle my feet together. I look away. I can’t keep eye contract with those moon-gray eyes. Especially not when I’m wearing a cheerleader’s skirt.

When the final bell rings, Mr. Wise announces that we’re going to watch the movie version of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. I risk looking up and luckily Simon has turned to face the front, so I’m looking at the side of his head. He’s obnoxiously gorgeous; it should truly be illegal. I find myself smiling quietly. It looks like he put some of his sister’s hair clips in his hair as an attempt to participate, but otherwise he’s wearing an outfit I’ve seen him in a hundred times before.

Mr. Wise starts the movie, but less than a minute in the door opens and in walks Abby Suso. She sits at our lunch table, too. She’s wearing an actual suit and tie with a ridiculously absurd fake beard. It’s kind of awesome. As she crosses the room, she looks at the three of us on the couch and bursts out laughing. Simon glances toward us and I look away. Abby slides into the desk behind Simon.

“What the heck? You guys didn’t dress up!”

“I’m wearing hair clips,” Simon says, pointing to one as he looks over his shoulder at her. He glances toward me again and I look away.

“Okay, well, they’re invisible,” Abby says as she turns toward Leah. “And you’re in a dress?” I can almost hear the eyeroll in her voice. I chance looking back and Simon has returned to watching the movie and I return to watching him.


	2. Lunch on Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lunch table drama on the day of the Homecoming game.

I’m already at the table, across from Garrett staring at my tray of food. Garrett and Leah are arguing about Country music. “Jason Aldean,” Garrett says as Simon arrives and flops into the seat between him and Leah. The fact that I have to eat lunch in this close of proximity to Simon Spier is a crime against my stomach. It’s all butterflies every day. I can’t even speak, so I just watch. 

“Who the hell is that?” Leah asks.

Garrett leans forward, around Simon. “You seriously haven’t heard of Jason Aldean?”

“I seriously haven’t.”

Garrett slaps his hands on the table and I look at him, but then Simon imitates him and I actually kind of laugh. Garrett gives Simon a half-smile.

Nick sits in the chair next to me and opens his packed lunch. “Hey. So, I have a thought,” he says. “I think we should go to the game tonight.”

Nick, Simon, and Leah never go to football games.

“You’re kidding me,” says Leah. “What about WaHo?”

“What about it?” asks Nick.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Leah look down at her tray. Simon is watching her carefully, but then looks at Nick. “I’ll go to the game,” he says. My heart soars. Simon is coming to the football game. I wonder if they’ll sit with us. Nick will and Simon will probably sit with Nick, so it’s definitely possible.

I sort of stop paying attention to what’s happening around me and start thinking about the football game. Trying to think of ways I could end up accidently having to sit next to Simon Spier for 2 hours. Although, maybe that’s not a great idea. Because then I wouldn’t be able to actually watch the game; not that I care about football. I also wouldn’t be able to speak; I can’t speak when Simon’s around. I’m too afraid of saying something stupid. My stomach is full of butterflies.

When I snap out of my fantasy-world I realize I’ve been staring at Simon the entire time, luckily, he doesn’t seem to have noticed, but Garrett has and is giving me a look that I don’t quite understand. I swallow and feel my cheeks turning red as I look back down at my food.

There’s suddenly a loud scraping and Leah is storming away from the table. I have no idea what just happened next to me.


	3. Homecoming Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Creekwood High School Homecoming 2014.

I’m sitting next to Garrett in the stands. We’re a few rows from the top and it’s incredibly crowded. After the parade ends, I start watching the entrance. A few minutes later, Nick and Simon walk in and my heart flutters a little. They stop at the bottom of the stands and squint around. Garrett waves and finally Nick spots him. I watch him turn to Simon and then they start climbing through the stands toward us. Am I actually about to sit through an entire football game with Simon Spier a couple people away where it would be incredible awkward and incredibly noticeable if I were to spend all night staring at him?

They reach us and Garrett turns toward me from his spot on the end. “Everyone get cozy! Make room for Eisnier and Spier.” We all shift to the left as much as we can; Garrett’s practically in my lap. Nick sits down first and pushes up against Garrett. I watch as Simon tries to squeeze in. He stands up immediately and twitches. His face starts to blush and I look away. Simon Spier blushing when he’s that close to me should be illegal. It does things to me that are not appropriate for public spaces.

By the time I look back, Simon is looking down the bleachers again. “Okay,” he says, “I’m going to go sit with drama club people.” I follow his gaze as he starts climbing back across the rows. Only a couple rows ahead of us, next to the stairs are Taylor Metternich and some other kids I recognize. Cal Price who I have history with is sitting on the aisle next to Taylor and then Emily Goff who was in my English class last year is sitting on Taylor’s other side.

I watch as Simon taps Cal on the shoulder. Cal scoots into the empty space between him and Taylor as Simon ducks under the banister to sit down. I have a feeling I won’t be paying much attention to football tonight. A minute later, I think Cal must say something, because Simon turns toward him. Cal isn’t looking at Simon, but Simon is definitely looking at Cal and he’s looking at Cal in a way that sort of breaks my heart, so I look away and watch the game for a few minutes.

By the time I look back to Simon, Martin Addison has slid in on his other side and Simon is facing him. At least from this angle, it seems like he’s looking at Martin with something akin to disgust and that I’ll take, so I watch Simon talking to Martin. I have no idea what they’re talking about, but Simon looks halfway between upset and terrified. I wish I had an excuse to walk down there and find out what was going on, but I don’t, so I just watch. Eventually, Simon turns back toward the game and so does Martin. I spend the rest of the night staring at the back of Simon Spier’s head. His messy blond curls are distracting; I really want to run my hands through them. Maybe someday.


	4. Simon's Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lunch table on Simon's Birthday (November 17, 2014).

I’m usually the first one to get to the lunch table; mostly because my class before is in the hallway right next to the cafeteria. Today’s no different. I sit down and wait. Today’s a cake day; there’s no point in buying lunch. Anna and Morgan walk up a few seconds later; Anna is carrying a stack of party-hats. After both of them have hats on, she offers me the bag; “Hat?”

“Thanks,” I mutter as I take the next one from the stack.

Garrett walks in a minute later and Anna offers him the stack of hats. He takes two and straps them to his head like horns as he drops into his seat. Abby and Nick come in next. Abby is holding a piece of paper, a gold crayon, and a roll of scotch tape. I tilt my head. “What’s that for?”

“You’ll see,” she says and the she starts folding the paper as they sit down. Anna pass them each a hat, but Abby doesn’t stop her work to put hers on.

I hear a lot of oohs and aahs from the direction of the door and look up to find Leah walking carefully across the room with a whole Publix sheet cake and she’s already wearing a hat of her own.

When Simon finally enters a minute after Leah, Abby rushes to finish what’s she doing and sticks three pieces of the tape to Nick’s fingers, before pulling on her party hat.

“Siiimon,” she sings in a weird almost operatic tone. “Hands out, eyes closed.” Simon hasn’t even sat down yet, but he does as he’s told. Abby drops her creation into his hands. The paper as been folded into a bowtie and colored gold. 

Simon grins and blushes. “Should I wear it?”

“Uh, yeah. You have to. Golden bow tie for you golden birthday.”

“My what?”

“Your golden birthday. Seventeen on the seventeenth.” Abby tilts her head up and reaches toward Nick. “Nicholas, the tape.” Abby tapes the bow tie to Simon’s shirt and then pokes his cheeks. He blushes again.

“So, whenever you’re ready,” Leah says. I look away from Simon to see that she’s holding a plastic knife and a stack of plates and almost determinedly not looking at Nick and Abby.

“So ready,” Simon says and I look back to him. It’s his birthday and he seems distracted. I don’t think he even notices that I spend most of the rest of the period staring at him while picking at my piece of cake. Garrett does though and gives me that weird look again when the bell rings.


	5. English on Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Monday after Thanksgiving. Mr. Wise's first period English class.

Mr. Wise is passing back our short essay quizzes on Thoreau. I’m sitting directly across the aisle from Simon. He hands one to Simon. I watch out of the corner of my eye. Simon looks really elated for a minute and then he sighs. What happened? And then Simon is reaching toward me and my heart stops beating.

“Hey,” he says as he taps my shoulder. I’m staring at my desk. I take a deep breath and turn sideways in my chair to face him. “Looks like this is yours.”

I reach for the paper and manage to squeak out, “Oh. Thanks.” I turn back to the front of the room, away from Simon and I can feel my cheeks getting hot as I glance at the paper. I got a perfect score. My cheeks properly flush as I glance back at Simon.

He’s still looking at me. “No problem. I mean, I’d keep the grade if I could.” I try to smile and look back down at my desk. 

The rest of the period is a lost cause, because my brain is only capable of thinking about Simon Spier and his perfect moon-gray eyes and his perfect blond curls and his perfect lips and what those lips would feel like on mine. Nope. Nope. Nope. I can’t go down that line of thinking. Not in school and definitely not while sitting less than 3 feet away from him.


	6. Love, Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is actually based off emails in the book (Chapter 18), not a scene. The fragments of emails are copied directly from the book.

It’s the first Saturday of winter break. I just wrote the most ridiculous email to Jacques who I’m about 99.9% sure is Simon Spier even if I’ve been trying to convince myself otherwise. I hit send and then I stare at the page in front of me and actually die a little inside. Did I really just…I did not mean to type that. What the heck was I thinking?

> So, yeah. If anyone can find the humor in this, it’s you. Please. Or just distract me. You’re good at that, too.  
>  Love,  
>  Blue

No. No. No. No. No. Why? I always proofread my emails. Why was this the one email I didn’t proofread. I could actually die right now. I spend the entire rest of the day refreshing my email, willing him to respond. He doesn’t until after 6 o’clock. And thank God. It’s just a completely normal email until I get to the end.

> And I’m thinking about you.  
>  Love,  
>  Jacques

Holy. Holy. I don’t even know. Did that just happen? I read it again. And again. And again. I probably read the last three lines of his email 30 times. I swallow and I feel my face turning red, but it doesn’t matter because I’m alone in my bedroom.

On Sunday morning, I’m finally coming down off the high enough to compose a coherent email, so I do. And Simon (excuse me, Jacques) responds less than 40 minutes later. And it’s back and forth again until I’m staring at his email from 10:30 AM, freaking out.

> Blue,  
>  I love that you’re having Oreos for breakfast. And I love your giant baguette.  
>  So, here’s the thing. I’ve been typing this and deleting this and trying to think of a better way to phrase this. I don’t know. I’m just going to come out and say it: I want to know who you are.  
>  I think we should meet in person.  
>  Love,  
>  Jacques


	7. First Day Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day of school after winter break. After Simon was outed on the Tumblr.

Well, I’m now 99.9999999% sure Jacques is Simon so that’s something. I still have no idea what happened, but I hear people mentioning the Tumblr all day. 

I watch him in English, but he didn’t even look at me. He keeps glaring angrily at the back of Martin Addison’s head every couple minutes. Abby and Leah are sitting on either side of him and giving anyone that so much as looks at him the stick-eye…other than me. At least they realize I’m not going to say anything…not anything _mean_ anyway.

At lunch, everything is weird. Abby, Leah, Anna, and Morgan are discussing guys they think are boyfriend material for Simon and I can’t listen, so I stare at him instead and at least he seems amused. At least they’re not making fun of him. Anna says something and I don’t hear what, but it causes Nick to immediately put his arm around Abby and pulls her closer to him. Abby says something; I don’t pay attention. Leah replies; I don’t pay attention. All I can think about is Simon and Jacques and Simon until Leah is standing abruptly. She pushes her chair in and storms away. I look at Garrett and he has this look on his face. Halfway between anger and bemusement. He nods toward me slightly with a raised eyebrow and I bite my lip.

“If you like her, just ask her out!” Simon spits angrily in my direction and I almost laugh, but blush instead. I stare at my tray of food. I know Garrett's watching me.

Simon does even look at me in during Algebra and my heart breaks a little. He really has no idea, does he? I’m sort of crushed. I thought I’d given him enough clues that maybe maybe he would figure it out or at least have an inkling, but no. He not only thinks I’m straight; he thinks I like Leah, and honestly, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. He’s so oblivious sometimes.


	8. Soccer Auditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is actually one of my favorite scenes in the entire book if I'm being honest, so there's that.

After school, it’s the first day of soccer tryouts. We’re on the field further from the school and the girls are on the one closer. I feel like I’m finally back in my element. We’re running cone drills and it’s honestly nice to have a minute to think about something else. Coach blows a whistle and we huddle up before he dismisses us for a water and stretch break before we actually start scrimmaging. I catch a glimpse of Nick jogging toward the fence and then I realize Abby’s there, but it’s not just Abby; Simon is with her and just why. I pick up my water bottle and drink some. Garrett joins me a second later.

He nudges my shoulder and gestures toward the three of them. “Let’s go over there.” I stare at him with wide eyes. “Oh, you know you want to, let’s go, Greenfeld.” He puts a hand on my shoulder and steers me in that direction. I shake him off after a couple steps, but keep walking. He’s right, of course, I do want to. Simon is watching Nick and Abby when we arrive.

“It’s weird that they’re making you try out again,” says Abby.

“I know,” Garrett pants. “It’s like a formality. Kind of. Just to see –“ he pauses for a breath “ – like, where he wants to put us.”

“Oh, okay,” Abby agrees, but she’s looking at Nick.

Nick smiles at Abby. “So, what, you’re just blowing off rehearsal?”

“Pretty much, I was like – yeah, I’m gonna go ogle soccer boys now.” She leans across the fence toward him and grins.

“Oh, really?” he asks.

Simon quickly turns away to look at me and Garrett and I have to look away. “So, it’s going well?” he asks.

“Pretty well,” Garrett says like the savior he is. I nod.

Simon stares at me and I can feel my face blushing, luckily I was already red from the cold and practice, so he won’t notice. Garrett nudges me and I don’t think Simon notices because he’s still staring until he shakes his head and keeps talking. “What happens if you really screew up the audition? Can they kick you off the team?”

I fight a laugh and smile at him. “Audition?” And now we’re staring at each other.

“Tryouts." He blushes and I’m lost. He smiles at me and I’m totally gone. He looks like he’s done something wrong and I try to figure out what he’s thinking, but there’s a whistle blowing behind us. Garrett jogs off and I run after him with a last fleeting look at Simon and Abby.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is again based on emails (Chapter 24) not an actual scene from the book.

That night, Simon sends me an email. Okay Jacques sends me an email. It’s Simon. I formulate a response. It takes me almost 3 hours to convince myself to press send, but only because of the last line.

> Jacques, I’m almost positive I know who you are.

I mean, I’ve been pretty sure for months now, but today. Today, I know. I turn my laptop off immediately and go to bed. I’m not waiting for a response.

The next night after dinner, I finally check my email again. He sends me a list of 5 guesses, because apparently, he thinks he knows, too. Before I even start reading, I know he’s going to be wrong.

> 1\. You share a first name with a former US President.

Okay, that’s actually true, but no one in school knows my full name. No one except Garrett anyway.

> 2\. And a comic book character.

I mean, technically there was a villain in an Iron Man comic a really long time ago whose civilian name was Bram, so I guess?

> 3\. You like to draw.

I mean, no. I don’t. It’s not something I do regularly, so no.

> 4\. You have blue eyes.

Definitely not.

> 5\. And you once pushed me down a dark hallway in a rolling chair.

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. He’s clearly thinking about someone in drama club and I try to rack my brain for someone that fits the bill. _Does Martin Addison draw? I don’t think so. But…I’m pretty sure I’ve seen Cal Price down the art hallway before. What’s his full name? Calvin? Calvin Coolidge. Calvin and Hobbes. He has blue eyes, I think._

I swallow. Welp. I’m clearly not what Simon wants me to be. It feels like my heart is breaking into a million tiny pieces. I don’t know how to do this anymore.

Two and a half hours later I send a response and then I go to bed.


	10. English Class on Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Friday after the previous chapter. Mr. Wise's first period English class.

I’m sitting on the sofa with Garrett and then Abby’s actually on time for once, so Garrett waves her over. “I was saving that for Eisnier, but just your luck, he seems to be late.” Abby laughs and flops into the seat. A few minutes later, Nick does arrive and walk over. I don’t know if Abby waved or if he just saw us and did it on his own. I’m sort of in my own little world, slowly sinking into the side of the couch. Simon’s still not here. Not that it even matters. It really doesn’t matter anymore. If Simon wanted Blue to be Cal Price, he’d surely be disappointed it’s me instead.

Apparently, Abby had flagged Nick down because he’s now sitting on her lap? I don’t understand straight people. I’m not paying attention to anything, other than watching the door and waiting for Simon until I hear Simon’s name from the other end of the couch and suddenly, I hear every word Abby Suso is telling Nick.

“Simon and I were about to leave rehearsal last night when Cal Price called him over. He, Cal that is, very casually mentioned that his bi and told Simon they should hang out sometime. Simon, the poor thing, froze on the spot. He looked like a deer in headlights. I don’t think he even gave Cal a proper answer. It was so freaking cute.”

Just then, Simon does show up for class. Abby calls him name and must wave him over, but I can’t see around Garrett and Nick. “Simon, I was just telling Nick about what happened in rehearsal yesterday.”

“Yes,” says Nick. “Who, pray tell, is this Calvin fellow?”

I watch as Simon shakes his head and blushes and I feel like my dying. “No one. He’s from drama club.”

“He’s no one?” Nick tilts his head. “Are you sure? Because this one tells me –“ Abby’s hand is suddenly over Nick’s mouth and honestly, I’m grateful.

“Shut up!” Abby says. “I’m sorry, Simon, I’m just so excited for you. It wasn’t a secret, right?”

“No, but it’s not – it wasn’t anything.”

“Well, we’ll see.”

Simon shakes his head and walks to a nearby desk.


	11. Love, Simon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey it's the movie title. Once again based on emails (Chapter 26) and not a scene.

I refuse to check my email that night. I don’t want to know what he said if I’m being honest, but by Saturday afternoon, curiosity gets the best of me. He did respond. On Friday night. It’s only 2 paragraphs and honestly, I want to cry when I’m reading them. And then there’s the little…

> Love,  
> Simon

…at the end. All this time. All these months. I was right. I was always right, but now I’ve wasted two and half years on this boy that will never actually like me. I know he says he "want[s] to know [me] for real”, but if he wanted me to be Blue, he’d have figured it out by now. And I can’t do this anymore, so I write back. I tell him I’m sorry. I tell him I’m glad things are working out the way he wanted them to. After all, from what I hear Cal Price does want to go out with him and clearly that’s what he wanted, right?

I close my laptop and collapse onto my bed with tears stinging the corners of my eyes. 20 minutes later, my phone buzzes. It’s Garrett. _Soccer in my backyard?_ I groan, but decide it’s probably for the best. Maybe it’ll distract me from the mess that is my life for a little while, so I tell him I’ll be there in 15 minutes and start getting ready.


	12. The T-Shirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This actually happens before the scene in the book and mentions an email from the end of Chapter 26.

I don’t check my email again that night, but when I wake up in the morning, I can’t help myself. I swallow. He sent an email at 12:18 AM.

> …I guess what I’m trying to say is that I really do understand if you don’t find me attractive or whatever. I’ll get over it. But you’re kind of my best friend in a lot of ways, and I really want to keep you.

I’m so stupid. How could he ever think that? How? I have to do _something_. I don’t know what that something is, but I have to do it. It dawns on me a second later exactly what I have to do and I start googling. I finally find exactly what I’m looking for and get in my car to head for the mall.

Two hours later, I’m back in my bedroom with a Publix bag, an Elliott Smith t-shirt, blue-green construction paper, and my heart on the line. I fold and refold the shirt a thousand times until it’s exactly perfect then I set it on my bed. I sit down at my desk with the construction paper and a pen.

I cut a piece of paper in quarters. On one piece I write:

> I’m assuming Elliott understands that you would have made it to his shows if you could have.

On another piece, I throw caution to the wind:

> P.S. I love the way you smile like you don’t realize you’re doing it. I love your perpetual bed head. I love the way you hold eye contact a moment longer than you need to. And I love your moon-gray eyes. So if you think I’m not attracted to you, Simon, you’re crazy.

And below all that, I write my phone number.

I tape the second note to the inside of the t-shirt. That’s for Simon’s eyes only. I don’t need it falling out when he picks up the shirt and I definitely don’t need someone else seeing it. I put the shirt gently, perfectly into the bottom of the Publix bag and set the first note on top of it. I set my alarm for 20 minutes before I usually do and I close my eyes. I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight, but I should at least try.

On Monday, I get to school, earlier than I usually do. The junior parking lot has only 2 cars in it and I thank my lucky stars neither of them belongs to Simon or any of his close friends. I go into the school with the grocery bag in hand and turn down the science and math hallway. I know where Simon’s locker is. I walk past it as often as I can in hopes of seeing him. I swallow, take a deep breath, and loop the handles of the bag through handle of his locker. Then I get my things for first and second period from my own locker and head to English.


	13. Lunch on Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the in-school performances of Oliver.

All week, I check my phone religiously. Between every single class; during every single water break at practice; between every problem on my Algebra homework, but nothing happens. I even check my email and there’s nothing there either. By Thursday night, I’ve resigned myself. I tried. He’s had my number for 4 days and he hasn’t done anything with it. He probably put it in his phone, my name popped up and wham-o, we’re done here. At least he’s had the curtesy to not mention it to anyone (at least as far as I know).

On Friday, all the theater kids aren’t in class, so at least I don’t have to worry about him catching me staring during English. At lunch, however, it’s a different story. We’re all sitting and waiting for Abby and Simon to join us. When they show up, I can’t help but look at Simon and _holy fuck_. I can’t help but stare.

Leah steals the words out of my mouth a second later. “Holy fuck, Simon.”

“Don’t you love it?” says Abby. She seems proud. _Did she do this? Because if so, thank you Abby Suso._

He looks at me and I don’t look away because like, actually _holy fuck_.

“I had no idea your eyes were so gray,” Leah says. “Did you know?” she asks and I glance up to see who she’s talking to; it’s Nick.

“I did not,” Nick affirms.

 _And these are supposed to be Simon’s best friends?_ I knew his eyes were gray, but still _holy fuck._

“Like, they’re kind of charcoal around the edges,” Leah says, “and lighter in the middle, and then almost silver around the pupil. But dark silver.”

“Fifty shades of gray,” says Abby.

“Gross,” Leah says.

I’m still staring and then out of the corner of my eye I see Garrett giving me that look again so I stare at my tray of food instead and only watch Simon through my eyelashes.


	14. Oliver - The First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Bram sees Simon perform in Oliver. Friday afternoon.

After lunch, it’s our turn to watch the production. Garrett wants to leave, but Nick and I convince him to come. Because “our friends are in it, Laughlin.” I mean, I couldn’t care less about that fact, but Garrett doesn’t need to know that. Garrett and I slide in next to Nick. Leah, Anna, and Morgan sit directly behind us. The auditorium stays lit longer than I anticipate and the audience is getting restless. People are sitting on the back of their seats, throwing balled up programs in the air and shouting to each other.

This goes on and on for what seems like forever. I glance at Nick. “What’s taking so long?”

He shrugs. “No idea.”

Finally, the theater teacher walks onto the stage, holding a microphone. “Hi,” she says. “Some of you may know me. I’m Ms. Albright, the theater teacher.” I hear someone whistle somewhere behind me and people giggle. “So, I know you’re all here to see an exclusive sneak preview of a pretty awesome play. We’ve got a great cast and crew, and we’re eager to get started. But before we get to that, I want to spend a couple minutes reviewing Creekwood’s bullying policy together.”

It’s like the entire room groans in sync. There’s a lot of chatter and movement and then a girl shrieks with laughter and another one yells, “QUIET!” which sets off the rest of them giggling. “I’ll wait,” Ms. Albright says on the stage. The laughter finally dies down and she holds up a copy of the Creekwood handbook. “Does anyone recognize this?”

A guy shouts, “Your diary?”

“This is the Creekwood handbook, which you should have read and signed at the beginning of the year.” She keeps talking and no one seems to be listening. I mean I am, but it’s been ingrained in my head since childhood that you listen when teachers are talking. She even reads from the handbook; including the entire zero tolerance policy. Eventually she leaves the stage and the auditorium lights dim.


	15. The Carnival

It’s just after 8 on Sunday night. I’ve dragged Garrett to all 3 performances of Oliver because regardless of the fact that Simon Spier doesn’t like me; I still like him. I’m still…in love with him. I sigh as I lay back in my bed. I pull out my laptop. Even though I know there won’t be anything there, I log into my Blue email account. I blink a couple times because there _is_ something there. There’s an email from Simon.

I start reading and by the time I’m halfway done it dawns on me. _I’m a fucking idiot._ Simon hasn’t texted me because he never found my second note not because he doesn’t like me. My stomach flips and I’m already nauseated. _I’m such a fucking idiot._ I finish reading his email with a renewed sense of hope.

> So, what I’m trying to say is that there’s an extremely badass carnival in the parking lot of Perimeter Mall today, and it’s apparently open until nine.  
>  For what it’s worth, I’ll be there at six thirty. And I hope I see you.  
> Love,  
> Simon

I glance at the time. _FUCK!_ I jump up from the bed and grab my car keys before running down the stairs. “Where are you going?” my mom asks when I put my hand on the knob of the front door.

“I’ll explain later. I’m really sorry, but I have to go. Right now.” I don’t give her time to respond. I throw the door open and slam it shut behind me. I get in my car and race toward the mall. 

His car’s still in the parking lot. I park as close to the carnival as I can and then I run. I look around frantically, trying to find him. And then I see him and my heart stops. He’s heading toward the Tilt-A-Whirl. I buy a single ticket as quickly as I possibly can. He’s already getting into a seat when I look back to the ride. I run after him. The operator is about to close the gate when I get there. “Wait, I need to get on this ride,” I say. He gives me a weird look but shrugs and opens it again, holding out his hand for my ticket. I hand it to him.

I swallow and step toward the pod I saw Simon sit in. He’s alone. His eyes are closed. He looks defeated. I slide in next to him. “Can I sit here?”

His eyes open and he stares at me for a second before scooting over and loosening the seatbelt. He smiles at me and my stomach is already full of butterflies that this ride is definitely not going to help. I swallow. “I like your shirt.”

“Thanks. It’s Elliott Smith.”

He still doesn’t understand. I bite my lip. The ride operator reaches over us and pulls the guardrail down to lock us in. I take a deep breath and open my eyes wide, just willing him to understand. “I know.” 

We’re staring at each other for a long moment and then I watch as the realization washes over him. “It’s you,” he says.

I smile, relieved. “I know I’m late.”

There’s a loud grinding noise and suddenly we’re moving as someone in another car shrieks a laugh. I close my eyes and clap my hands over my nose and mouth. I am not about to throw up on this boy.

When the ride finally stops, I drop my hands, but my eyes stay closed. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Are you okay?”

I nod and exhale slowly. Willing myself not to vomit. “Yeah, I will be.”

My stomach is in knots, but Simon hasn’t run away. It’s something. I barely open my eyes. The world is spinning. I take a deep breath to steady myself as we get out of the pod and walk toward the exit. I desperately look around for the closest place to sit and there’s a curb to the left, so I head for it and Simon follows me. I sit down and he sits next to me. If I wasn’t so nauseated, I’d smile.

I lean my head forward and put it between my knees. That’s supposed to help with nausea and it sort of does at least enough that I can talk. “I just got your email,” I explain without looking up. “I was sure I was going to miss you.”

“I can’t believe it’s you.”

“It’s me.” I finally open my eyes and glance at him. “You really didn’t know?”

He shakes his head. “Not a clue.”

I stare straight ahead. I don’t trust myself to look at him and still be able to speak. I can feel his eyes still on me, but I can’t help myself. I turn toward him; my whole body moves. He looks away and I smile. “I thought I was so obvious.” He shakes his head and I go back to staring straight ahead. “I think I wanted you to know.”

“Then why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because,” I say. I can hear my voice shaking. “Because, if you had been looking for it to be me, I think you would have guessed it yourself.” 

He’s quiet for a long time and then says, “But you never gave me clues.”

If I wasn’t so nauseated. If I wasn't sitting so close to him. I think I might have laughed, but instead I smile. “I did. My email address.”

“Bluegreen118.”

“Bram Louis Greenfeld. My birthday.”

“Jesus. I’m an idiot.”

It kind of breaks my heart. “No, you’re not.”

He’s quiet again and I steal a glance at him. How can he be so beautiful?

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I ask.

“For not figuring it out.”

“But it would be completely unfair of me to expect that.”

“You guessed it was me.”

“Well, yeah.” I look at the ground as I talk. “I kind of guessed a long time ago. Except I thought maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see.”

He’s quiet and I glance toward him again. I don’t know what to make of his facial expressions, so I look back at the ground. He clears his throat and I look at him. “I guess I should have shut up about who my English teacher is.”

“Wouldn’t have helped.”

“Oh no?”

I fight a smile. _I knew before that._ I turn away again. “You sort of talk the way you write.”

“No freaking way.”

And there’s this grin on his face that twists my heart inside my chest. He’s looking out over the carnival, so I look at him. Then, suddenly, he's scooting closer to me. He gets so close that our arms are almost touching and his pinky finger is an inch from mine. I twitch. I’ve never been this close to Simon before and it’s…

“But how are you a president?” he asks out of no where.

“What?”

“The same first name as a former president.”

“Oh, Abraham.”

“Ohhh.” We’re both quiet. I look at him and he looks at me. “And I can’t believe you rode the Tilt-A-Whirl for me.”

“I must really like you.” I do. I really really do. 

He leans toward me and I can tell he’s nervous which is actually kind of nice because I definitely am. “I want to hold your hand,” he says softly.

I blink and look away. “So, hold it.”

Then his hand is in mine and it’s like my whole body’s on fire.


	16. English on Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monday after the Carnival. Mr. Wise's first period English class.

When I get to English on Monday morning, Garrett and Nick are already on the couch Garrett pats the space on his left when I walk over. I watch the door and Garrett rolls his eyes and starts talking to Nick. Then Simon walks in and our eyes lock. He smiles adorably and walks right over to me. “Hi, hi,” he says and I can’t help but smile at him. I scoot toward Garrett to make room and Garrett gives me a look before he glances at Simon and moves a little closer to Nick. Simon slides into the space between me and the arm of the couch.

“Good job this weekend, Spier,” Garrett says, leaning around me. “Pretty friggin’ funny.”

“I didn’t know you were there he says.”

“I mean. Greenfeld made me go three times.”

“Oh, really?” he says and then he’s grinning at me and I can’t help but grin back. There’s this silence and it’s everything. “Did you finish the chapter?” he asks.

“I did.”

“I didn’t.”

I smile at him and he smiles back and blushes. I lower my eyes, because I still find speaking to him incredibly nerve-wracking. Then the bell rings and we all pull out our books. Mr. Wise walks in a minute later and starts reading aloud. We’re following along. I’m struggling to keep my place because Simon is right there and so much more interesting than _The Awakening._

A few pages later, Simon is leaning toward me. Clearly giving up on his own copy and trying to look at mine. I smile to myself and lean toward him. The whole sides of our bodies are touching and it’s something like magic. I stretch my left leg forward and push my knee into Simon’s. I watch as his eyes move from the book to my knee. They don’t move back. A few minutes later he sighs and I don’t think he realizes it was out loud because when he notices Garrett and I are staring at him, he blushes again and I nudge him with my shoulder. He smiles and goes back to staring at my knee.

When the bell rings, we don’t say anything as we put out things away. I follow him out the room and it’s only after we’re in the hallway and Garrett is punching my arm that I realize he’s been trying to talk to me for the past minute. I watch as he walks off toward the World Language wing with Abby who has her arm around his shoulders.


	17. Lunch on Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after the carnival during lunch period.

I spend the rest of my time leading up to lunch planning. As soon as the bell rings I head directly to the math and science hallway away from the cafeteria. Simon’s already at his locker when I arrive so I step up and put my hand on top of the door. He looks at me with a confused expression and then he’s smiling and my heart melts.

“I think we should go somewhere.”

“Off campus?” I nod and wait, watching his face. “Have you done this before?”

“Nope.” I must be intoxicated by his very presence, because I press my fingertips to his around the locker door.

“Me neither,” he says. “Okay.”

I can’t help but smile at him. I lead him to the side door near the cafeteria and across the parking lot to my car. While we’re walking, he wraps his arms around himself and shivers. Once we’re sitting down, I start the engine and turn the heat to high. “Pick the music,” I say, handing him my iPod when I see him looking at it. 

He gets this look on his face I don’t quite understand, but it’s really cute. “So, where are we going?” he asks.

I glance at him and smile. “I have an idea.”

He doesn’t ask questions and I smile as he scrolls thorough my music collection. It starts raining as we pull out of the parking lot. He presses play and Otis Redding’s “Try a Little Tenderness” plays. I smile again.

He touches my elbow and I almost freeze. I’m still not used to the electric feeling when he touches me. “You’re so quiet,” he says.

“Now or in general?” I say, staring at the road.

“Well, both.”

“I’m quiet around you.” I smile; will he understand that one.

He does. “I’m one of the cute guys who gets you tongue-tied?” he asks with a smile.

I grip the steering wheel tighter and swallow. “You’re the cute guy.” I can see him smiling out of the corner of my eye as I pull into the shopping center and park in front of Publix.

“We’re going grocery shopping?”

“It looks like it,” I say as I try to smile. I cut the engine and open my door. We both cover our heads with our hands and run to the entrance. Once we’re in the entryway he pulls out his phone. I step away to pick up a grocery basket. When I get back to him, he’s smiling at me. I glance at the giant clock on the wall. “Twenty-seven minutes until the end of lunch. Maybe we should divide and conquer.”

“You go it. Where to, boss?”

I send him for a pint of milk and then we meet in line for the self-check-out.

“So what did you get?” he asks when he arrives.

“Lunch,” I say and tilt the basket toward him. It has two cups of miniature Oreos and a box of plastic spoons. He gets this look on his face that I still don’t quite understand and start scanning everything. He takes out his wallet, but I slide my card before he can.

When we get back outside it’s pouring even harder so we run to my car and collapse inside. As I start the engine, I watch him trying to dry his glasses on his shirt and when he catches me, I stare at my hands with a grin.

“Abraham,” he breaths my name and my eyes flick to him.

A moment later, I’m not sure this is actually happening, because he’s leaning across the center console and putting his hands on my shoulders. Then he’s kissing me and it’s like I’m alive for the first time in my entire life. Our noses put at first, but we figure it out and then I close my eyes and let myself be carried away. I reach my hand to the nape of his neck and start tracing patterns until he pulls away. My eyes flutter open and I can’t help but smile at him. He smiles back. And, because I can, I lean forward and kiss him again.

Once we’re finally eating the world’s most unhealthy but delicious lunch, he looks at me and asks, “So now what?”

“We should probably go back to school.”

“No, I mean, us,” he says and my heart races. “I don’t know what you want. I don’t know if you’re ready to be out.” His hand falls to his lap.

I reach over and tap my thumb against his palm for a second and then I look at him and twine my fingers through his. He leans toward me. “I’m all in, if you are.”

“All in?” he asks. “Like what? Like boyfriend?”

“I mean, yeah. If that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want,” he says. We’re both smiling at each other and I wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.


End file.
